


The Boy Who Flatters

by luckless_is_me



Series: Of Robots and Gummy Bears [2]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Aged Down! Hiro, Alternative Universe - Not Related, Determined! Hiro, Fluff Practice (I tried okay), M/M, Scene in the Life of Tadashi, Sick! Hiro, What Are Summaries?, What are Tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3592956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckless_is_me/pseuds/luckless_is_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tadashi is flabbergasted by a seven year old and Hiro knows exactly what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Who Flatters

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! Welcome to part two of the random babysitter AU that nobody asked for but apparently everyone wanted. Because geezus~ I have never received so much response from such a short story! You guys are amazing! I'm so happy so many people are enjoying this! (̶I̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶h̶o̶p̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶s̶a̶p̶p̶o̶i̶n̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶g̶u̶y̶s̶!̶)̶ <3
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this work. All characters belong to Disney/Marvel.

"There's my big college man!"

Tadashi smiles sheepishly, letting the café door fall closed behind him with a slight jingle of the bell. He shuffles a little nervously as he glances around the empty venue, the tables all cleared and the floor prepped for cleaning. Cass is leaning against the display case with her hip cocked to the side, a plate full of leftover doughnuts in her hands. She's smiling like she always is when she sees him— big and full with little creases around her eyes.

And he might not really work here anymore— because his college grants and his mother's life insurance keep him comfortable (though he's not so sure how he feels about the latter)— but he still feels hopelessly awkward when Cass swoops in to give him a hug, the plate of sweets held precariously behind his back as she squeezes his shoulders.

Still. It feels nice.

"Look at you," she says when she pulls away, hands gesturing to him, like that will somehow make him understand just what she sees. "You've gotten so big!"

He takes a step back, his mint green shoes squeaking against the floor because it was raining earlier and they're still a little damp. "Have I," he asks, though he knows what she means. It's only been a week and a half since he was here last, but he can see completely over her head now. He's had another growth spurt— hopefully his last because he doesn't like having to buy new jeans every two weeks.

"You have," Cass exclaims a little cheekily, setting the doughnuts to the side. "Wait until Hiro sees. He's going to be so mad." She laughs at that and Tadashi laughs along because Hiro's always complaining that he's getting taller and taller and he wants Tadashi to stop so he can catch up.

He keeps telling him that it doesn't quite work like that, but Hiro always pouts like he's slighted him with his growth and begs for gummy bears as retribution. It's silly and ridiculous— something expected from a seven year old— but Tadashi always lets him have his way. In fact, he's fairly certain that Hiro's bratty attitude has gotten worse with age instead of better, and it's likely all his fault.

"Speaking of— where is Hiro anyway," he asks once the laughter dies down, his coffee-colored eyes searching the café for the familiar mop of black hair and scrawny limbs. It's unusual for Hiro not to assault him as soon as he walks in the door. He normally only makes it a step or two inside before Hiro's tugging at his arms and begging to be picked up and thrown around, much to his aunt's dismay.

Cass scrunches up her face a little, her green eyes crinkling with something like worry. "He's upstairs. Hopefully sleeping. He came down with the flu sometime last night." She looks at him bashfully, quirking her mouth to the side, "I'm sorry I didn't let you know this morning. I don't want you coming down with it too— but he's been looking forward to this weekend and he did that thing— you know, with the pleading and the puppy-dog eyes? —and I just couldn't say no."

"It's fine," he says, jostling the bag at his shoulder when he lets his weight shift from one foot to the other, a genuine smile stretched across his lips. And really, it is. His immune system is more than capable of dealing with a little bug and it isn't like he's never been around a sick Hiro before. One particularly memorable occasion that occurred over a year ago involved Hiro vomiting a revolting combination of pizza and popcorn all over his lap; the public bathrooms at the fair were far better suited for cleaning Hiro's face than they were for cleaning his jeans. He shuddered at the memory, though more from the fact that Hiro had cried the entire time than the fact that it was gross. Nearly three full years into this babysitting gig and he still isn't very good with tears. "Besides, aren't you supposed to go to a convention in Richmond this weekend?"

She heaves a sigh, nodding a bit as she glances toward the stairs leading up to the second level. "Yeah— for some sort of bread exposition. Apparently, it's a crime to serve the wrong bread and soup combinations," she snorts. "I still don't know if I should, though, with Hiro sick. I don't like leaving him here."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll be here all weekend— besides, you won't be that far away and I'll call you if anything out of the ordinary happens."

Cass laughs again, running her hand through her hair. It's frizzing up again— from the humidity outside and the stress of running a business with a small child running around on the second floor. "I guess you're right. He tends to prefer you to me these days anyway."

And he wants to respond to that— though he's not entirely sure of what he wants to say— but she's already grabbing the plate of doughnuts off the nearby table and waving him toward the second floor as she starts off toward the kitchen. "Feel free to head on up. I still have some cleaning to do down here and then some last minute packing upstairs. Help yourself to the leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry— and Hiro's up in his room if you want to check in on him. He'll be happy you're here already."

He blinks at her retreating back for a minute before hoisting his bag a little farther up onto his shoulder and making his way upstairs. While he used to be apprehensive about moving around the Takachiho household, almost three years of running around the second and third floors after Hiro in impromptu games of tag and hide-and-go-seek have made him more than familiar with the building's layout. He's comfortable here— far more at home here than he is in his own empty house.

Bypassing the second floor landing, he tiptoes up the remaining stairs into the attic space, his body sagging heavily against the frame where he knows Cass wants to have a door installed soon. The room before him— large and bright, despite the looming rain clouds outside— is a wreck, with toys scattered here and there and pillows littering the floor. The bed, which he is sure was once impeccably made, is ruffled and the blankets are more on the floor than on the bed. Those that are still clinging to the mattress are twisted into a mound.

He's sure Hiro's under there somewhere.

And he's not wrong, because the mound is wiggling around and a matted mop of inky black hair is pushing its way out of it, followed by big almond-shaped eyes, rosy red cheeks, and that wide, gapped tooth smile he's more than accustomed to. "Dashi!"

Tadashi laughs, pushing himself off the empty doorframe and walking into the room. He makes it to the bed just as Hiro manages to completely free himself from the blankets wrapped around his skinny frame— and then his lap is full of Hiro, that mop of hair tucked under his chin, his buttoned nose pressed against his throat. He's a little warm— the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead a clear indication of fever— but he seems well enough.

"Hey, you," he greets and Hiro preens in his arms, straightening himself up to look at him. His cheeks are a little flushed and his nose is bright red, but he's smiling, scooting around in his Godzilla printed pajama bottoms. Tadashi's a little upset that he outgrew the robot ones; he liked those.

"Did you bring me gummy bears?" Tadashi laughs at the question, at the way Hiro leans over to start rummaging through his bag for them without the slightest hesitation. The colorful bears are Hiro's favorite treat and he always makes sure to bring him some.

He pouts when Tadashi scoots his bag away, closing it off from searching little fingers, his nose scrunched. Tadashi just pushes him upright again, feeling his forehead with the back of his hand. Hiro begrudgingly lets him, using his palms to keep himself upright. It's warm, just as he suspected, but it's not as bad as it could be. "How are you feeling? Aunt Cass said you were sick."

Hiro swats his hand away, lifting himself onto his knees so that he's Tadashi's height. "I feel _great_ ," he says, all wide-eyes and pronounced cheeks. And Tadashi knows he's lying, because immediately afterwards he asks, "Can I have gummy bears now?"

Tadashi laughs, pushing his bag off of the bed and laying back against the mattress. Hiro falls along with him, stubbornly reaching for his bag again, but he grabs his hand and holds him in place by his hips. Hiro knows he's not allowed to have sweets when he's sick and the scowl on his face is priceless, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed, but the rumble of Tadashi's laughter seems to appease him, his stomach moving him up and down with short, jiggling movements.

"Maybe in the morning," Tadashi mumbles, rubbing up and down Hiro's back; he's far thinner than he needs to be, but he's a picky eater and no amount of trying on his part has managed to fatten him up, "after some breakfast. How does that sound?"

Hiro groans, snuggling into his chest, his hands twisting in his cardigan. He wore the green one today, because Hiro likes to steal his clothes to play dress up and this one is his softest and the buttons are the easiest for Hiro to maneuver. "But that's so far away," he whines, rubbing his snotty nose against Tadashi's shirt.

Tadashi makes a little huffing sound, his eyes crinkling at their corners, not really caring about the mucous that he is sure will take ages to scrub out of his clothes. It would be fine; it's not like he hasn't done it before. Carefully, he moves so they're lying vertically on the bed, with Hiro mumbling against his chest as he wrestles with the blankets in an attempt to cover them.

He doesn't do the best job because his feet are still hanging out at the end— and he forgot to take his shoes off— but Hiro looks content enough, sliding off his chest to burrow into the crook of his arm. "You're the best," he breathes into his clothed skin, his voice a little muffled from his runny nose and the blankets that nearly hide him from Tadashi's view.

Tadashi smiles into his matted hair, oddly flattered as he kisses the top of his head. "Oh, really? Better than Aunt Cass?"

His tone is light and teasing, but Hiro nods against him furiously, twisting around to glance at him with serious doe brown eyes. "Absolutely! The best _ever_!"

"I don't know about that," he says, letting his head fall back against Hiro's pillow. "She makes excellent cookies."

Hiro purses his lips together as if he's mulling it over— the benefits of Aunt Cass's cookies against Tadashi's mere presence. Eventually, he seems to decide with a little shake of his head. "No," he declares against his chest, "Dashi's the best. Dashi's my favorite person in the whole wide world and one day, we're gonna get married so we can always— _always_ — be together."

Tadashi blinks at the declaration, taking in the sick little bundle in his arms before he starts to laugh, long and hard. His grip tightens around Hiro's skinny frame as the boy squirms in his arms, propping himself up on his elbows to look at him with narrowed brown orbs, seemingly offended by Tadashi's laughter. And Tadashi stops at the look in his eyes— the stubbornness and the determination that he's only used to seeing when Hiro really, _really_ wants something and isn't willing to stop until he gets it.

"Just you wait," he says, jutting out his chin in defiance, "I love Dashi the most— and we're gonna get married when I grow up, so you'd _better_ wait for me." And with that, he drops back into the crook of his arm, huffing as he snuggles under the blankets.

It's sometime later when Tadashi finally lets his words hit him, when Hiro's already asleep, nestled against him with panting little breaths pressing against his clothes. And somehow, it's okay. There are worse things than having a seven year old declare their love for you.

Besides, he'll grow out of it eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> And thus we have part two. Isn't little Hiro adorable? (In more fuzzy pajama bottoms because I'm shameless.)
> 
> I'm still practicing with present tense and dialogue, so I would love to hear your thoughts on these things (and anything else you may find). I really struggled with the present tense in this work and I definitely caught myself slipping up multiple times, so please let me know if any past tense made it into the final product (though some sentences are supposed to be past tense, so... I̶'̶m̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶).
> 
> Production: The last section of this still isn't finished (started though, finally), but I will be keeping to my schedule of posting every Sunday until it's complete. Expect the next update on the 29th. 
> 
> Comments are welcomed and responded to. I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Edit: Now with lovely [cover art](http://luckless-is-me.tumblr.com/post/124020661859/lovely-cover-art-for-my-work-the-boy-who) by Kita!


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